


then i heard your heart beating (you were in the darkness too)

by plantmajor



Series: "it's kind of a touchy subject." [1]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), just a lil bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-01 22:39:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14530827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plantmajor/pseuds/plantmajor
Summary: someone has got to teach peter how to stop keeping it all in or else he's going to explode.





	then i heard your heart beating (you were in the darkness too)

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers for avengers: infinity war!!! read at your own risk.
> 
> (this has not been beta'd.)

hey mj do you think u can pck me up??

**_peter-man; [ 1: 23 a.m. ]_ **

 

u have a car and ned is asleepp and so is my aunt i don’t wanna dsturb thm

**_peter-man; [ 1: 24 a.m. ]_ **

 

ure probablly asleep too i’msorry sorry

**_peter-man; [ 1: 25 a.m. ]_ **

 

She’s up watching _Miss Congeniality_ when it happens. The movie’s sort of her guilty pleasure, so when FreeForm starts playing it at 12 AM on the same friday she happens to be hit with a bout of insomnia, of course she watches it. It’s not a bad movie, (although she wishes that they hadn’t turned it into another heteronormative relationship instead of leaving the main character single).

Michelle’s phone buzzes next to her around 2 AM, but by then she’s already too intrigued. It’s probably just a Twitter notification anyway (another celebrity saying something racist or political, probably), so she ignores it. It buzzes once more, and Michelle shrugs it off, but by the third time she’s sick of it.

 

 **_peter-man_ ** **has sent you a message**

 

 **_peter-man_ ** **has sent you a message**

 

 **_peter-man_ ** **has sent you a message**

 

Her eyebrow’s raised before she realizes it, and her thumb is already on the home screen and she is reading the messages in the blink of an eye. Peter texting her this late is weird, especially if he’s out patrolling (because she is pretty sure that he has an AI in his suit and that the AI would contact other people before it would contact Michelle). Anyways, he also probably has Tony Stark on speed-dial for any emergencies, and it’s not like Ned hasn’t woken up to help him before.

Why her?

 

what’s up loser

**_MJ; [ 1: 30 a.m. ]_ **

 

That’s enough sarcasm to not give away that she’s worried, right?

Peter might be an idiot but Michelle has spoken enough words to him and Ned that she considers him a good friend (people who aren’t good friends don’t have private group chats, do they?) and Michelle has had enough good friends to know that if anything is wrong with them, she will cut anyone until they’re okay.

(Not that she’d tell them that.)

 

nono it’s ok im ok now its fine

**_peter-man; [ 1: 31 a.m. ]_ **

 

you’re obviously not, idiot

**_MJ; [ 1: 32 a.m. ]_ **

 

share your location with me. i’ll be right there.

**_MJ; [ 1: 34 a.m. ]_ **

 

A minute passes. Then two. Michelle can feel a little bit of panic bubbling up in her chest before she forces it down because Peter Parker attracts trouble, but he always comes out of it completely fine. He’s probably not even in trouble. Just lost somewhere.

Then again, he’s one of those people who don’t go for help unless absolutely positively necessary.

 

 **_peter-man_ ** **has shared their location;**

**1313 BROADWAY, NEW YORK**

 

This makes her permanent frown turn down even more. What the hell was he doing on Broadway? She rolls her eyes, and gets up from her comfortable seat in her living room. Within a minute, she’s out the door, not bothering to say goodbye (she’s alone again; business trips and late shifts, but she’s used to it at this point), because who would she say it to?

 

can you sit still for half an hour?

**_MJ; [ 1: 40 a.m. ]_ **

 

yeah

**_peter-man; [ 1: 41 a.m. ]_ **

 

Her car keys jingle in her hand, and she is too conscious of the Spider-Man keychain that she’d gotten herself as a joke before they knew she knew (the look on Ned and Peter’s faces had been worth it).

 

i dont wana be pushy but can u go a littlre bit faster sorry sorry

**_peter-man; [ 1: 44 a.m. ]_ **

 

She’s there within twenty minutes.

 

* * *

 

It takes Michelle a minute or two, but she finally finds Peter behind the Burger King, in the dark alley that she feels like a drug dealer would hang out in. He’s behind a dumpster, his mask in his hand, his hair disheveled, but other than that he looks--

Fine.

“Peter?” She says, her tone neutral, stepping closely. “You there, nerd?”

“Mmm.” is her only answer, and she’s starting to re-think her observation that he’s Fine when he looks up at her with tear-ridden eyes. 

“Damn it, Parker. What the hell did you do?”

His phone drops from where it was in his hands, but he doesn’t answer.

“Peter.” Michelle says, crouching down in front of him. “Answer me.”

“I didn’t know who else to call.” He says, breathless.

“So you called me?”

“Sorry.”

“Shut up, Parker.” She says softly, no amount of negativity in her voice, and begins to unzip the backpack she brought to pass him some of the clothes she’d snatched from her closet.  
  


* * *

 

“I’m not hurt.” He whispers when he’s in the over-sized sweater her uncle had gotten her for Christmas and the ripped brown leggings that she’s probably stolen from her older sister at some point.

Michelle cringes when she first sees what he’s wearing (a dark pink sweater and brown leggings? yikes!), but shrugs it off. She grabbed what she could, and he seems to not care at the moment (warning bells go off in her head, because normally Peter Parker can be pretty self-conscious about his appearance).

“I can see that.” She replies apathetically, but still grabs his hand. “Let’s get food in you.”

She doesn’t pry.

 

* * *

 

When it’s their turn to order, he orders a McDouble and it takes Michelle a minute to explain to him that they’re not at McDonalds. It takes him _another_ minute to figure out what he wants, and by then they’re being pushed to the side by the cashier so that the person behind them can order first.

(Michelle doesn’t blame the guy— she’s seen her sister after working late night shifts and she doesn’t envy them.)

In the end, they get 20 piece chicken nuggets to share, and a bottle of water that she says is for the both of them but will be given to Peter. He tries to pay-- of course he does-- but he can barely stand and Michelle flips him off before he can even open his mouth to protest.

 

* * *

 

“This color’s nice.” He mutters, flicking at the water bottle cap.

Michelle looks up from the salt she’d been drawing in to raise an eyebrow. “Color of the sweater or color of the water?”

Peter’s mouth twitches. “The sweater.”

She shrugs, and meets his eyes. “It’s a daring color. You pull it off, asshole.”

 

* * *

  


“Eat it.” Michelle says finally, pushing the last nugget to his side of the table. It’s been quiet for a while and Michelle loves the quiet but this is a weird situation to enjoy silence in. “Eat it, or I’ll kill you.”

Peter takes it in his hand stares at it like it’s the answer to all his problems. “Sometimes I feel like I’m dead already.” He replies softly, and Michelle’s stone-cold heart cracks.

“Well, you’re not.” She says, not missing a beat. “You’re not dead and if you die before your time I’ll convert to Satanism just to resurrect you and beat you up for dying.”

“You sound like Ned.” He whispers.

“Just eat it, Peter. Before you collapse.”

 

* * *

  
Michelle would always read in the car during road trips and get nauseous to the point where they always had to stop on the side of the road just so she could throw up. It was something she got scolded for a lot, but throwing up lunch on the freeway usually turned that scolding into sympathy. Sometimes, when it wasn’t as bad, she would just close her eyes and listen to the soothing rumble of her dad’s old Chevy as it drove home.

Most people wouldn’t find a car soothing, but Michelle wasn’t most people (god, she sounds way too edgy), and it turns out Peter wasn’t most people either.

By the time Michelle had started the ignition, Peter’s eyes were closed and she could see him inching more into the hoodie as each second past like it could protect him better than his Tony Stark multi-million dollar suit could.

She didn’t really get why she was out there, or why he was even out here-- especially when he could’ve just webbed himself home-- but Michelle had been emotionally fragile before. She’d seen people shatter to glass because someone had poked them wrong, falling to the floor off the metaphorical table of life and crashing onto the floor and exploding into hundreds of pieces.

Peter may have been teetering close to the edge of the table, but Michelle knew better than to push him off it.

 

* * *

 

“Thanks.”

She jumps at the sound of his voice piping up when they’re stopped at a red light, and she turns to him with her eyebrows knitted together. “For what?” Michelle responds, turning back to face the light.

The red beaming down from the traffic light hits the car just right, and the lighting seems like something out a movie. Peter seems to notice it too, moving his hand up and flexing his fingers around in the blood-colored hue. The light seems to turn to liquid, streaming down his arm--- glowing.

“For not leaving.” Is all he says, and her breath hitches in her throat.

“Is there any water left?” Peter says after another few minutes.

Michelle nods, eyes focused on the road. “In the back. You can get it yourself, right?”

Peter bites his lip and nods as well, twisting his body back to grab one of those mini bottles of water Michelle’s mom had put in there for hydration emergencies. He chugs it down so fast that she’s surprised he doesn’t already need the bathroom.

“Thanks.” He says once he’s done, and he goes silent again but his fingers are twitching and it doesn’t seem like he’s done at all.

“Can I ask you something?” Are his next words, and he says each of them carefully like if he says them wrong he’ll get ejected into space (which is probably not the best choice of words as he’s done it before).

“You just did.” Michelle retorts, not being able to help herself.

Peter chokes out a forced laugh. “Seriously, though. Can I?”

“That’s another one, but sure, knock yourself out.”

There’s a pause-- one long enough that Michelle glances at him quickly to make sure he’s not dead. “Peter?” She prompts, raising an eyebrow.

“Do you think I could stay over tonight?” He replies quickly, words jumbled and tripping over each other. He turns away as soon as he’s finished asking, looking out the window. After Michelle doesn’t answer immediately, he swallows. “That was weird. Sorry. I don’t want to impose or anything but I just--- I don’t... I _can’t_.”

His voice breaks at the last word and Michelle heart _throbs_ because she _knows_ . She knows what it feels like to not be able to sleep in your own bed, to want to get out-- to _have_ to get _out_ , and she knows that based on what she can only _imagine_ he’s seen, he knows too.

He takes her silence as a no, and quickly starts to shrink back into the oversized hoodie. “It was a stupid question,” he whispers. “Sorry. Your parents wouldn’t-- Sorry, I..”

“Peter, if you say sorry one more time I will punch you in your perfect teeth.” Michelle interrupts, rolling her eyes as they stop at yet another red light. She uses that as an excuse to look at him-- a sixteen year old who’s been around the universe, saving people and taking part in an intergalactic war that had nothing to do with him and that most people would sit out from but he wasn’t like most people.

“Sor--” He clears his throat.

“My parents are out.” She replies after a second’s hesitation. She turns and rests her gaze back towards the long, winding road. “You can stay. Less driving for me anyways.”

“Thank you.” Peter replies, and the look on his face--- relaxed, the fear still there but there’s less of it now--- is worth it.

 

* * *

**NEW MESSAGE TO:** **_may parker_ **

 

he’s with me.

**_MJ; [ 3: 17 a.m. ]_ **

 

* * *

 

While she’s opening the door, Michelle notices that Peter seems to be focused on the spiderman keychain that’s shaking along with the other keys as she jiggles the key in the lock.

She’s always been good at reading people--- it was useful for drawing expressions, along with the fact that it could tell you a whole lot about even a stranger if you were good enough at it (and luckily for Michelle, she _was_ good enough).

He’d laughed at it when she had gotten it and whenever she took it out (his forehead crinkled when he laughed and his nose scrunches up and--) but now he’s biting his lip again and his fists are clenched at his sides and he looks guilty.

She drops her gaze back towards the lock.

 

* * *

 

  
Peter, after everything they’ve been going through for the past hour and a half, has the audacity to sit on the couch and imply that he’ll be sleeping there. This boy, who’s a month a half younger than her, looks up at her with tired eyes and says, “I think I’ll sleep ok.”

Michelle scoffs and rolls her eyes, grabbing his arm and shoving him into her room.

He ends up in one of the huge sweaters she’s stolen from her dad and pajama shorts. “I don’t have to sleep there, really. The couch is fine and it’s not like I haven’t slept on one before..”

“Shut up, and lay down. There’s no way I’m leaving you alone. Don’t want you ending up in Astoria next.”

He nods, a sad smile etching itself on his face.  “I was thinking of going down to Brooklyn, actually. See how it’s going.”

 

* * *

 

When they’re in bed together--- Michelle on one side and him on the other because this isn’t a booty call--- she speaks first. “My uncle had an accident when he was younger.” She whispers, her room illuminated only by the soft glow of the open laptop on her desk and the streetlights shining in from the window.

“He would have nightmares and break down to the point where he didn’t feel safe in his own home anymore, so he used to runaway again and again and they would find him the next morning, asleep on a bench somewhere.” She continues, her voice grim. “They tried to get him therapy, to have him open up so he didn’t have to feel _alone_. But he refused and he would run away again and again until one day they just didn’t find him.”

Peter doesn’t answer, but his breathing hitches and she can tell he’s listening.

“You’re an idiot sometimes, Peter-- even for a superhero, but don’t be a superidiot and ignore your problems like that. Talking about it does help, you know. Stop running away because one day you’ll get lost and no one’ll be able to find you.”

Silence, and Michelle worries he’s fallen asleep before a small snort alerts her that he’s still awake. “You should use that metaphor in your English essay.” He mutters, and Michelle rolls her eyes--- still running away.

God, someone has got to teach him how to stop keeping it all in or else he's going to explode.  

“I already finished the essay, but I bet you didn’t even start it.” Michelle retorts, and turning over on her other side so that she’s looking at the back of his head. “Seriously, Peter, stop deflecting. You don’t have to talk about it here, with me, but talk about it at some point. It helps.”

“Does it?” He whispers, his voice cracking and Michelle says nothing more.

 

* * *

 

Heavy breathing is what wakes her up. A quick glance at her alarm clock tells her it’s 4 AM, and she blinks wearily as she sits up, looking around carefully. There’s someone sitting at the edge of her bed, breathing fast and loud enough to at least wake her up.

It’s Peter, she remembers. He’s here and it sounds like he’s crying and god _damn_ it because she knew better than to form close friendships but she went ahead and did it anyways.

“What’s up, Spider-Man?” She says softly, trying not to scare him but he jumps anyways and  he turns to face her with wide eyes.

“Shit-- S’rry, I.. I didn’t mean t’ wake you up.”

“Not trying to sound like an American housewife from the ‘60s, but come back to the bed.”

He hesitates, but resigns and slowly crawls back to his side of the bed. He doesn’t lay down, though, but instead sits with his back against the headboard and his knees hugged against his chest, looking up at the blank slate ceiling.

Michelle knows better than to pry--- because if she doesn’t like it when someone does it to her, then why would she do it to someone else?--- so she decides to push herself up and sit next to him in the same position.

“It wasn’t as bad as the other ones.” Peter starts, his voice croaky like someone who’s just been crying (which is what he is). “The first one, I mean, not this one.”

He swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs precariously in his throat. “It started out happy, and I was with you.. and Ned.. and May… and we were happy and having fun and it was supposed to be _good_ , but I still somehow fuck up, even in my dreams, and you guys started to disintegrate. Just slowly, into bloody ash, and you were crying and I couldn’t do anything at all, and it was all my _fault_.”

“Peter--”

“Then I was back with Thanos and I was starting to disappear too and I woke up right before I was all gone and I just couldn’t _breathe_ , y’know? I couldn’t breathe and I knew that if I stayed with May anymore she would wake up and it’s dumb but I was scared that she would start to disappear, this time for _real_. I don’t know what’s real anymore, and it scares me so I put on my suit and I went out.”

He clears his throat, presumably to mask what sounded like a sob. “And I was out and I felt free and I made it to Midtown before I saw this robbery and this guy was at gunpoint and he had a kid behind him and all I could think of was…”

_Ben._

She hadn’t really known Peter as well as she does now when it happened, but Ned and her CNN notifications had filled in the details.

“I started to not be able to, to think, so I ran. I ran and I rand and I ran and--” Peter blanches. “Oh no. What if they died? What if they died and it’s all my fault? I didn’t save them, and I didn’t save Ben and I can’t save y--”

Michelle grabs his shaking hands, and pulls him to face her harshly. “Peter,” she interrupts, her eyes boring into his teary ones. “They’re fine. If they’re dead, we would know. They’re fine, and it’s not your fault. You can’t expect to save everyone, Peter, there’s always going to be casualties, but that’s not what matters. What matters is that there’s someone like you out there _trying_ too.”

“Square up, Parker. Don’t beat yourself about this. I’m alive, Ned’s alive, your aunt is alive and I want you to know that no matter how much you dream about it, you are not getting rid of us that easily, okay? Breathe.”

He takes a deep breath, the tears streaming down his face glistening like a diamond. “I don’t want to get rid of you.”

“I know.” She whispers. “I know.”

 

* * *

 

It takes a little more time, but soon he’s calmed down enough that he can talk without run-on sentences and crying. They lay there, on their sides, facing each other as Peter tells her what he feels and what he felt, what it was like dying, what it was like being followed by death all your life until the reaper finally took you too.

“I didn’t know who else to call.” He finishes. “I didn’t want to hurt May or Ned and whenever they look at me all I see is pity and I’ve seen it too much. It wasn’t what I needed and I knew you had a car to pick me up, and that you stay up late a lot, and lately you’re the only one who doesn’t-- who.. who tells the truth. You’re the only one that hasn’t changed.”

“It’s not pity, Peter.” She whispers. “They love you and they’re worried. They want to help.”

“I can’t stop myself from running away from them.”

“As long as you don’t run away from me, then you’ll be fine.”

 

* * *

 

He’s probably asleep now, she thinks. It’s 5:30 AM and she can feel herself drifting off too. A year ago, her sister would be up and making herself breakfast, trying to get to her shift on time, and she would leave something for Michelle for when she gets up an hour later. A year ago, her mother would be in front of the TV, changing channels with her pager at her side while her dad gets ready behind her.

Now, though, her sister’s at college and her parents are on a well-deserved trip together so Michelle doesn’t have to worry about anything. The only thing weighing down on her conscience is the emotionally injured high schooler at her side.

He’s probably asleep now, she reminds herself, but still she inches her hand closer to his until she’s holding it, and she takes a deep breath. “I’m real,” She finds herself saying. “I’m here, and I’ll always be there.”

He’s supposed to be asleep now but he squeezes her hand and Michelle finds herself falling asleep to the sound of cars driving by and Peter’s constant breathing.

 

* * *

  
**Notification from VENMO:**

 

**_Peter Parker has sent you $7.00 for:_ **

**—— burger king :)**

**[ DECLINE ]** ** _or_** **[** **ACCEPT ]**

 

**You have DECLINED.**

  


**Author's Note:**

> this went a different way than i originally thought it was going to go. this was supposed to be a prompt and was supposed to be funny but that didn't really work out. michelle, also, was not a character i ever thought i would write before i started writing this two days ago. in all honesty, neither was peter, because i was too scared that i would mess up his characterization. my urge to do something in this fandom was too strong though, so here we are (:
> 
> the beauty about writing someone like michelle i think, is the fact that there's not a lot about her that we know about. we don't know her family, her exact thoughts, or what she does when she's not at school, and that lets fan fiction writers like me interpret her in different ways, you know?? 
> 
> not only that, but this was a way for me to vent. i've never really written a vent fic like this before, but it was a nice area to explore. ALSO, since this was my first time writing for marvel or the mcu could you (the reader) leave me any notes you have on characterization?? i could use it as a way to update this one-shot in the future. 
> 
> thank you for reading!!! both the fic and this note
> 
> hit me up on tumblr at pixelatedgays


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